Chicago

The tag line from the weekend is:
What happens in Chicago, stays in Chicago.

So, suffice it to say, I can't elaborate on too many details of Drunken Debauchery Fest 2007.
Here are the things I can tell you:

Chicago is a firm believer in revolving doors. Steve said it was because of the bitter cold and the revolving doors are better at keeping out the cold and keeping in the warm. Sounds good to me.

The Lake (Lake Michigan, I believe) looks like the ocean. It's just endless.

We stayed at the Intercontinental Hotel on Magnificent Mile (Michigan Ave). An uber-expensive hotel but 1) the toilet wouldn't flush so there was always toilet paper floating in it, 2) the tub faucet dripped constantly, 3) three of the outlets in the room didn't even work, which we didn't know until the very last day, even though Julie couldn't figure out why the hell her CrackBerry wasn't charging, 4) the cold water lever was missing it's little "C" (No, it's not a big thing, but for $300 a night, I want to see a "C" on the cold water lever.) and 5) which is actually a positive thing - we could see the water from the lake in our room. A nice perk.

The baristas in the Starbucks in the lobby of the hotel need to be fired. Holy crap. They wouldn't last a day in Seattle. Slower than shit and when asked a question, responded with "Huh?" Are you kidding me? Funny, the high falootin' New Yorkers didn't know that the people who made espresso drinks were called baristas. I felt very intelligent explaining that to them.

We heard sirens every 10 minutes. Honestly. When a half an hour would go by with no sirens, I would look at Julie and say in mock horror "Oh my god, what's wrong?!!"

Friday night, over the span of 10 hours, I had 11 jack-n-cokes and a shot of something blue in a test tube at Mother's. And it was one of the best nights I've ever had.

All in all, Chicago was a good time all around. I made a couple of new friends. I got to catch up with an old friend. And got to let my hair down without any repercussions when I got home.


However, the flight home sucked. I was scheduled to leave at 5:25, but got an earlier 2:20pm flight to Denver. But I didn't get on the earlier flight in Denver (even though my bags did) so I sat at the airport until my 9:40pm flight. Got to SeaTac at 11:30pm, waited for a cab for 30 minutes, then finally got back to the apartment at 12:30pm. What a long freakin' day. And then real life slapped me in the face bright and early Monday morning at work.

*sigh*

I was apparently very missed.